Sanctuary
by Jaemlyn
Summary: After the Banks/Buchanan double wedding, Bo finds Dorian passed out in a pew at St. James and they exchange words. As it turns out, they have a lot more to talk about than it would seem... Short story, appx. 4000 words - filling in the blanks.


Night had fallen and the church was quiet in comparison to the party that half the town was attending.

Bo Buchanan entered the sanctuary apprehensively, taking a look around before he proceeded. If he had vocalized his emotions at the moment, it would have been in the form of a groan.

He shoved his hands into the pant pockets of his tux and shuffled his way to the front of the church in disappointed fashion. His ex-wife had just married his brother. He felt like one of the ribbon bows left hanging on a flower arrangement to be cleaned up later.

Never mind that he and Nora had a child together or that she had interrupted and stopped his own wedding not that long ago. He still loved her, and he told himself he always would. That was just a consequence of having a past relationship with someone who was still an active part of his life; and especially true of a person who had had his child.

Still, he couldn't hurt Clint, and it was clear that Nora had wanted to proceed with the wedding despite a tender moment she had shared with Bo the night before.

That told him all he needed to know.

And despite Lindsey's assertion that he should be honest, the family was having enough trouble as it was with Matthew's lawsuit.

Bo sank into a pew on the front row and looked up at the cross on the altar. The light reflected off of the darkened windows, giving them a black appearance against the night. Someone had blown out all the candles from the wedding ceremony, and the faint smell of smoke filled the air.

_How many funerals and weddings had they been to here?_

One thing was for damn sure - Matthew was his primary concern right now. Not Nora and Clint.

Bo turned as he heard a movement behind him and was surprised to see that no one was there. He shifted back to the front, a bit uneasy. There was something very eerie about the whole wedding situation, from start to finish, including the timing of the lawsuit; and here, sitting in the empty church, Bo's father's memory weighed heavily on him.

Behind him, someone started to giggle. It was muffled and jaded, but definitely a weary laugh.

"Great," Bo muttered to himself, turning to the back of the church again as he stood. "Hello??" He looked around, but didn't see anything except empty pews and unlit candles.

A groan emanated from a pew about halfway back, confirming Bo's dread. He walked disappointedly toward the voice and found Dorian with her scarf over her face, half asleep on the bench.

"Dorian?" he asked, perturbed.

She pulled her scarf off of her face and blinked up at him, squinting. "Bo? Oh, my...." She seemed surprised to see him, and perhaps slightly embarrassed, despite her inebriated condition. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, trying to get her bearings.

"What's so funny, Dorian?" he asked, frowning down at her.

She sat with her eyes closed, as if still asleep, and smiled. "Oh, those Buchanan men," she sighed to him. "All of them. Love - hate - it is all very complicated."

He sighed back at her and rolled his eyes, looking around for a minister or someone to rescue him from the situation. Surely someone was already aware that Dorian was sleeping it off in there.

"Your Pa," she continued, still smiling wistfully. "Asa. God, he was a rascal." She opened her eyes and her smile faded when her gaze fell upon Bo. "Clint," she practically pouted to him, lowering her chin and then raising it again as her pout turned into an angry frown.

"What?" he asked. "Don't tell me you still have feelings for my brother...."

Dorian made a disgusted face. "Nah!" She shrugged her shoulders and waved a hand in the air nonchalantly before stopping to consider Bo. "But that would sure be convenient for both of us, wouldn't it?" She put her hand to her forehead and looked around. "How did I get here?"

He ignored her second question, still standing in the church aisle looking down at her. "What are you trying to say, Dorian?"

"No," she continued, disregarding him as she grasped the back of the bench in front of her. "I would have to say that between the three, I'd have to pick Joe." She tried to stand and tottered, falling back into her seat before making another attempt. "Definitely Joe."

Bo would have been satisfied to watch her fall onto the floor, but his decency got the better of him and he reached forward to pull her to her feet. "On second thought, maybe you just shouldn't say anything at all."

She grabbed his arm and clung to it, dizzy. "Oh, oh, the room is spinning," she breathed into his sleeve.

Bo took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, desperately wondering if the night could possibly get any worse.

"Where is Blair?" Dorian asked, still clinging to him.

"At the reception, Dorian, although neither of you have any business being in public right now."

"You're absolutely right," she agreed, bemused as she ran her hand over his sleeve where she had held to it, as if to smooth it down. She looked around for her purse. "Can I, uh, borrow your phone?"

He took his cell phone out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Sure," he frowned, perturbed that he had to give her the use of his phone but relieved that she might be going home.

She opened it, blinking repeatedly at the glowing numbers and then sliding her fingers lightly over the buttons as if to clean them. "Oh, Bo! How can you read this? It's so blurry!"

He took the phone away from her, half-angry and half-sympathetic. "Come on, Dorian, if you need a ride, I'll take you. I wasn't having that much fun here anyway."

She plopped herself back down into the wooden pew. "No, I can't imagine you were," she agreed. "Your brother just married your wife." The corner of her lip turned up in a wry smile, wistful yet entertained at some mysterious irony.

"Ex-wife," he corrected.

"Oh, come on," she smirked, squinting again and shielding her eyes. "You know, once you love a person there's always a part of them that remains in your heart. It can be very confusing. Especially in times like ... this." She gestured around to the altar and sanctuary.

Dorian was never at a loss for words and it really got under his skin that she could be so right when she was so drunk.

"Yeah, I guess you'd know, with all the men in your past," he bit off-handedly as he held out his hand to help her up again, looking toward the church doors.

She jumped to her feet without his help and managed to lightly smack his face as she wobbled.

He furrowed his brows at her, clearly unfazed. "Come on, Dorian...."

"You know, I'd expect that sort of disrespectful remark out of your brother's mouth, or even ... Nora's," she growled through gritted teeth. "You never hear anyone judging a man for all the women in his past, do you? No. No! Men are _lauded _for their histories like they've discovered new countries... like women are nothing more than ... _conquests_. Just use us till we're not important and move on with your life like we were never even there!"

She paced to an empty pew a few feet further toward the back and sank into a sitting position again, her light scarf draped over her arm. She sat and blinked her eyes as if lost in her own little world.

Bo shook his head and wondered at her. "Are you sure you're over my brother?" he asked, feigning concern.

She blinked up at him sincerely. "Are you sure you're over Nora?"

There was a silent, reflective pause between the two before she spoke again.

"You know ... I've loved all the men I've been with. Okay - well," she acknowledged, "there might be an exception or two." She held up her index finger to emphasize her point. "But I respect my lovers, which - unfortunately - they sometimes do not reciprocate." She looked at Bo, who gazed back at her with mild disappointment. "Respect is something that is kind-of hard to keep on a pedestal. It crashes down so easily. Like when you find a man you love kissing his brother's ex-wife behind your back...."

"Oh, boy...." Bo dropped down into a seat on the other side of the aisle from her, sensing a new rant coming on, and realizing that he, too, had kissed Nora behind his brother's back.

"...Or when you love a man who has other priorities - when you know you'll always play second fiddle to his...." She waved her hand in the air, looking for the right word.

Bo looked over at her, convinced she was mostly just talking to herself and he had to wait it out.

She dropped her hand into her lap dejectedly, giving up on finishing her sentence.

He had an idea of what she meant. "You really did love David, didn't you?"

"David, Mel...." She opened her mouth as if considering other names, but closed it again.

He watched her thoughts trail off and he leaned toward her, sensing that she had purposefully left something off the end of that sentence. "What?"

She looked over at him in his dark tuxedo, a handsome man in his own way but so unlike the other men in his family, and her mouth slowly curled into a smile.

"Oh, that's right," she said slowly, starting to laugh. "You're David's Pa now. ... Bo? Ha! You're my ex-father-in-law -- I completely forgot!" She chuckled, putting her hand on her cheek.

He couldn't help but smile at the wackiness of it. "Yeah, and Blair's my ex-mother-in-law so what does that make us? What are we, our own grandparents or something?"

They shared a chuckle before Dorian got serious again. "You know you should never ... _ever_ bring that up again." She shook her head resolutely.

"You're right," he nodded gravely, considering her again and pondering how her mind functioned. "You know, I wish I was half as drunk as you are right now."

"You know I should say, 'Oh, don't say that!'" She smiled. "But I'm gonna do you one better … and say, 'Well, that can be arranged!'"

"Nah," he frowned, looking around again as if for a rescue. No one seemed to be that concerned about Dorian. "Nah, I don't want to do anything stupid."

Drunk though she was, she understood the implication. "What did I do?"

"Oh, you just … interrupted the wedding by saying you were going to stop a mistake and then turned it all around to propose a toast," her told her flatly.

She groaned, putting her hand to her forehead. "Humiliating. Clever, but humiliating."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Well, in a way, you did me a favor." He sighed again, looking up at the altar where he had been standing earlier, next to Clint and Nora.

She lay back down in the pew, using her scarf as a cushion to prop her head up against the armrest. "This is all my fault, Bo."

He looked over at her and did a double take, wondering if she was about to pass out again.

"No, no…. It really is," she argued with him, though he hadn't said anything. "It all goes back to Asa's funeral."

Now she had his interest. "What?" Dorian was admitting fault _and_ bringing his father's death into it?

"Clint was mine then."

"I remember."

"I gave Viki a pep talk."

"What?"

Dorian crossed one ankle over the other, trying in vain to get comfortable. "No, I did, Bo, and I told her. I told her that she wasn't happy and she needed to do something about it." She paused. "That's why she went to Texas all along, isn't it?"

Interested, Bo crossed the aisle and took a seat in the bench in front of Dorian, throwing one leg up so he could sit side-by-side with her. "You told Viki she wasn't happy?"

"I told Viki that I had Clint and she had nobody." Dorian folded her hands across her stomach and looked up as if having a great revelation.

Bo processed it in his mind. "So you're saying that Viki went to Texas, which is how she met Charlie...."

"Yes," Dorian interrupted, "yes, and that whole fiasco with Nora in the stables and David and Alex and blah blah blah...." Dorian closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

Bo looked her over and wondered if she was asleep before saying quietly and reflectively. "And now you're the one with nobody." That was something he could identify with deeply.

Her eyes shot open. "Bo?"

"Aw, nothing," he tried to dismiss what he'd just said.

"No, I heard you," she said with surprising clarity.

"Yeah, you know," he told her hesitantly, "I'm sorry for what I said earlier about all the men you've been with. It was...."

"Disrespectful?"

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "A lot has changed since that day."

She closed her eyes again. "What day?" she slurred tiredly, swallowing.

"Pa's funeral."

"Damn straight," she agreed.

"I was the one that was drinking that day."

"Eh," she shrugged. "Sometimes you just have to let loose." She nodded matter-of-factly.

"Let me ask you something, Dorian," Bo said in his best casual police commissioner tone.

"I didn't do it," she immediately offered, her eyes questioningly wide as she turned them toward him.

He ignored the premature response. "Does it really bother you so much that Viki and Clint ... and Nora ... are so happy today that you had to get drunk?"

She groaned again, rolling over and pushing herself up. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against her arm on the back of the bench Bo was sitting in.

She contemplated. "Do I have to answer that?"

"I guess you don't," he frowned, considering that response to be an answer in itself.

"Oh, what the hell," she frowned, propping her chin where her forehead had been and looking at him as she decided that she didn't care anymore if anyone knew -- mostly because her inhibitions were gone for the moment. She sort-of felt the need to talk about it, anyway. "It has everything to do with the fact that they're happy... but only because I'm not happy."

Bo furrowed his brows at her again. "Why the hell not, Dorian? You've got beautiful kids, Blair and her kids, Hope...."

Dorian sat up and tried to collect herself, draping her arm across her stomach and steadying herself with the other arm. "I'm so thirsty."

He shifted uncomfortably, hoping no one was listening. "You want to go get a cup of coffee or something?"

"Oh, God, no," she winced.

Bo checked his watch and shrugged. "I could maybe get you some water?"

"Tap water, no thank you." She shook her head. "Where's that reception?"

"No," he told her authoritatively.

"I need to collect Blair," she argued in her defense.

"Blair has your driver, if you don't recall, and I'm sure as hell not letting you out in public like this again." He turned into the police commissioner again for the moment. "That is, unless you want to spend the night sobering up in a padded jail cell."

Dorian quivered and winced, pulling herself back up to her feet and stumbling nimbly toward the front of the church. Her drunken gracefulness was a sight to behold.

Bo watched her with trepidation.

"It was all Clint's fault," she said accusingly. Her voice was pitiful, but with angry undertones.

Bo wasn't sure if she was still talking to him or talking to God. He inched toward her, ready to stop her if she decided to do anything crazy.

"If it hadn't been for your dear big brother, Ray Montez would never have come into my life at all." She started to spin to face him again, but stopped halfway and steadied herself, tossing her hair over shoulder proudly.

"Ray Montez?" Bo asked, hoping to hear her elaborate. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Dorian paused, her mind drifting aimlessly from Bo's question and skirting around the image of Ray in her mind. It made her very sad.

Bo was quite surprised to see Dorian suddenly slip to her knees on the floor and bury her face in her hands. At first he started to jump toward her, thinking she was passing out, but he stopped short when he realized there was more to it.

She shuddered and muttered something to herself. Bo crouched a couple of steps behind her. "Dorian?" he whispered. "I think you should probably let me take you home."

She shook her head, protesting, with her palms still covering her face. A light gasp escaped from her lips as she shook again.

"Dorian?" He frowned concernedly. "Are you crying???"

She shook her head violently. "No!" she yelled at him, her voice catching in her clenched throat.

Her answer echoed in the otherwise silent church. Bo shifted uncomfortably, unfolding his handkerchief and reaching forward to offer it to her.

She paused to blink at it before accepting the offer.

Bo couldn't help but identify with her on a level that he didn't want to admit they shared. For an instant, his brother's words echoed in his mind.

"_Well, maybe you'll meet someone at the wedding."_

_Very funny_, Bo thought to himself.

"You know, I visited Lindsey earlier today," he offered, trying to change the subject.

Dorian didn't budge. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he said, wishing she would say more because he didn't want to elaborate on the visit and he definitely didn't want to have to "comfort" her.

Dorian cast her gaze to the floor at her right, wondering for an instant why Bo wanted to tell her that, and deciding it was because she had brought up Ray Montez. "You know," she offered, sniffling. "I deserve better. Than people who always put their writing, or their ... acting career ... or their daughter, first."

Bo crinkled his nose, alarmed at her frankness, but finding it more familiar. "You really think a man should put you before his own child?"

She ran his hanky through her fingers and sighed heavily. "Well, no," she admitted. "But if anyone -- _anyone_ -- is equipped to help someone who has a mentally ill person in their family, it is me."

"Ray Montez," Bo clarified, nodding.

Dorian dabbed at her eyes and ran her fingers over them, trying to wipe away any running mascara she might have.

"Tell me something honestly...."

Dorian shifted in the floor so she could face him. "You never met a more honest person," she nodded sincerely.

"You can't be serious?" He looked at her skeptically. He knew Dorian honestly believed it when she said things like that.

She shrugged. "I'm drunk as a sailor. I have no reason to lie," she told him, slightly amused at herself.

He wasn't amused. "If your son...."

"I don't have a son," she countered.

He corrected himself, slightly annoyed. "If your child wanted a miracle surgery that could make them walk again, but they could die or become a paraplegic in the process, what would you do? Give them the opportunity to possibly have a shot at a normal life again?"

"Absolutely not," she answered without hesitation. "Absolutely one-hundred percent no. No no no."

"You're not just saying that because that's what I want to hear?"

She clutched his handkerchief in one hand and ran her other hand over the carpet. "Of course I want my daughters to have the fullest lives they can possibly live…." She looked up at him. "…But dying wouldn't give them that! That's a horrible thought, Bo... a horrible thought!" She shook her head rapidly, as if trying to shake it off. "Mm-mmm. No."

"I agree," he answered emphatically.

She ran her thumb over his make-up stained handkerchief and sighed. "Oh, dear."

"Listen, you know," he offered, watching her, "I know you and I -- my family -- don't always see eye-to-eye; and heaven knows you and Clint have done enough to hurt each other ... but, I'm sorry you're not happy." He nodded once and looked away.

She batted her eyes at him, seemingly surprised, and answered quietly and sincerely as she nodded. "And I'm sorry you're not happy."

She pouted inwardly, looking back down at her lap and stealing a gaze at him a couple of times as he stood back up and looked down at her.

"Well, what can we do about it?" he asked hopelessly, trying to encourage himself.

She shrugged without looking up and they shared another silence before she came up with an answer and joked, "Drink?"

He let out a deep breath. "That isn't funny, Dorian. You've got teenagers in your house, for gods' sake."

Her shoulders slumped, and she turned away from him again, nodding slowly and lifting her fist to her lips. Her eyes darted from side to side in front of her, as she half-expected to see Mel walk in and start scolding her.

He leaned over and lightly touched her shoulder. "How about a ride home?"

"I think I should just ... stay here for a while," she told him, still slightly dazed and bewildered.

He nodded. "Take your time, Dorian." He turned to go. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stick around for a while and make sure you have someone to help you get home."

_Could this night get any worse?_ he asked himself, almost tempted to take Dorian up on her previous offer of going out for drinks as he slipped out of the sanctuary.

He turned back to look at her before exiting. He couldn't help but think there was something more to her behavior. Dorian Lord wasn't the kind of woman to melt into the wrecked and disoriented puddle he saw sitting on the floor next to the church altar. What had happened to her? It was practically frightening.

On the carpet in the front of the church, Dorian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. _I'm a fighter, not a feeler. I'm a fighter, not a feeler,_ she repeated over and over in her mind until she practically forgot why she was saying it. _Ugh, I don't feel so good._

She sprawled in the floor to rest some more, finding it oddly comforting to lie in the cool, quiet church. A leftover tear spilled out of the corner of her right eye and as she swiped at it, she spied an ink pen someone had dropped. She reached across the floor slowly and retrieved it, shoving Bo's hanky into her jacket pocket.

No one would ever know to look at the bottom of the pew in the front row at St. James, where it would have been indelibly evident:

"Dorian was here."


End file.
